@robins-scoop
Kink Discovery- Pt. 2 (Hands)🤩
C.S.
Summary: Chris notices that you seem to be looking at his hands a lot.
TW: smut
"Ma? Hellooooo-? Earth to ma?" Chris nudges me, his hand pushing my shoulder. His long fingers touching me- fuck.
"Yeah? What is it, Chris?" I force myself to focus on his face.
"You good? You seem really, like, far away."
"Yeah, I'm fine. One hundred percent. I'm good!" I assure him. He squints at me.
"Uh huh...well, do you want to play a couple games with me?" He lets his lip pout slightly.
"I suck ass, but sure. Since you asked so nicely." I tease him slightly. I don't want to get him riled up, but I don't want him to notice my affliction.
He hops up and runs to his room. I take a moment to myself. I need to stop looking at his hands. I need to stop thinking about them wrapped around- Stop. Shit. I get up and force myself to follow the path I know leads to his room.
"What were you wanting to play-?" The last word trails off as I close the door. He's leaning, trying to reach something, but his hand is gripped so tightly around the edge of his desk; I can't help but stare. How could I not?
His head pops back up, and he stands up straight. He smiles all lopsided and it's so soft. He lets go of his desk, flexing his hand out, spreading his fingers and stretching. I want those fingers in- No.
"Hey, you up for a game you'll actually be decent at?"
"Uh, sure?" He pulls up the game. "What is it, exactly?"
"The sims." He grins at me. My chest swells up and I swear I must be dying.
"I love you." I kiss his cheek and he wiggles happily. I sit down and we start playing. Sadly, the sims can only hold my attention for so long. It's about 45 minutes later when my eyes start drifting to his hands.
I can't help it. They're just so pretty. They're perfect, honestly. Perfect to- Nope. Not going there. Come on, just focus on the game. His hands are right there though. Nearly so close I could taste them. God, I wish.
"Ma?" I'm staring. Shit. "Something on my hand-?"
"Nope. No. Nothing. Nothing at all." I quickly respond. I am so smooth, clearly. My cheeks are warm, they must be red. Chris sticks a hand out and touches my scorching face.
"Are you sure?" He moves his hand to my forehead. "You feel warm, babe." He lets his hand slide down the side of my face, coming to cup my jaw. His thumb brushes the corner of my mouth. I can't bite back the noise rising from my mouth.
His face contorts, and his eyes gleam with a new understanding. He places his thumb in the center of my bottom lip, slowly moving it downward. "Open."
My mouth is left agape, and he sneaks his thumb in. "Suck." My body is on autopilot, my mouth automatically sucking on the digit. "Good girl." I moan around his thumb.
I reach for his other hand. He gives it willingly and I move it to exactly where I want it. Now, one hand is occupied with my mouth and the other it up my shirt.
He pulls his thumb back. "Chris no-" I whine, trying to follow his hand. He gives me a look that stops me in my tracks. He adjusts himself in his sweats before returning his hand to my face.
This time, he points two fingers into resting on my lip. I open my mouth before he says anything. He begins to lightly thrust the two fingers into my mouth, never going to far back as to avoid my gag reflex overreacting.
"God, I wish this was 'm dick." He groans. I moan around his fingers, letting my hips oscillate. He groans as he watches my movement. I reach one hand out and place it on the same spot he had previously adjusted. "Shit, your hand is warm."
He moves his own hand down until it's at the apex of my body. I suck harder on his fingers, swirling my tongue around them as a means to deal with myself.
"Fuck ma, just like that. Can't wait to have you do that on 'm dick. Fuck. Need your hand under ma." I move my hand under his waist band. My palm is warm, my fingertips slightly cold, and he hisses as they brush across his sensitive head, spreading the wetness there across the whole length.
It's not long of my hand on him that Chris finishes into my palm. As he finishes, he begins moving his own hand faster than it previously was. "Aw fuck." He groans. "Need my fingers in you ma." He pulls my sweats and underwear down.
No time is wasted, his fingers immediately finding the source of my wetness and plunging in deep. He draws out loud and long noises from me. He forces out moans and groans, whines and whimpers, begging and pleading. Finally, I squeeze his fingers so tightly inside of me that I think I must have crushed them.
"Have a nice time with my hands, I presume?" He teases, kissing my head and removing both of his hands.
"I love you." It's all I can manage.
"I love you too, ma."
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